Shades of Green
by triangulated
Summary: Draco/Astoria. The first time she meets him, she is a shy little girl who barely registers his notice. Years later, they are at Hogwarts together and he seems troubled. Will she be able to discover his secret?
1. Chapter 1

The first time she sees him, she is nine years old. She has received her first toy broomstick and her tutor (the fifth, the others were such bores) takes her into the meadows at their summer estate to identify the different plants. She loves flowers and weaves them into her tangled, dark hair like a crown.

Her sister brings home some friends she has made at school. In her first year at Hogwarts, Daphne has grown taller, and more slender. Her cheekbones are emerging, and she looks more and more like Mama every day. She makes clever, cutting remarks, and Astoria has been shy around her since she came home. She seems more like a grown-up stranger than her older sister.

There is a pug-nosed girl name Pansy, a catlike girl named Regina with slanted eyes, a tall, dark boy named Blaise, and then there is him.

"This is Draco," Daphne introduces him in the new clipped tone she has adopted. "And this is my little sister. She can be quite amusing sometimes."

The boy – pale and graceful like one of her porcelain dolls – gives her a bored look. "She looks scared."

The others laugh and Daphne pats Astoria on the head condescendingly. "Oh she's quite the crybaby, aren't you, Tori? She was frightened to death the other day when I told her that dragons sometimes roam the countryside."

She flushes and backs away, tiptoeing out of the room after the attention has shifted back to the others. From the hallway, she can hear Daphne's high, mocking voice, "Oooh, Pansy, why are you staring at Draco so much anyway? Do you fancy him or something?"

When he leaves at the end of the day with the other children, he doesn't say goodbye to her. She watches him stride into the waning light though, before touching the portkey hidden amongst the weeds and disappearing like a mirage.

She sees him periodically at school; they even sit at the same table, though he sits at the other end with her sister and all of their older friends. When he laughs, she finds herself staring at him.

A year, then two, then three pass. She mostly grows into her gangly legs, makes friends – both within her house and with some Ravenclaws with whom she studies. She's hopelessly ill-equipped for sports, but she discovers that she is quite good at Herbology, and also has a memory for History of Magic.

All the other students find Professor Binns as dull as, well, the dead. But she doesn't mind him and often comes to him with questions she has that weren't addressed in class. What happened to all the displaced goblins after the rebellion of 1834, for example? And was Mogwarth the Great really in love with his own mother?

He answers all her questions in his usual, and she can see in his transparent face a flicker of loneliness. She's glad that in these moments, she can help to keep him occupied. Days and nights must seem interminable when you're left floating around for an eternity.

In her third year, she notices that Draco seems different. When she sees him at the dining table, he laughs less when with his friends. Often, he skips meals altogether. His eyes take on a haunted, trapped look.

One day, she asks Daphne about it.

Her sister has grown into her looks and sometimes, when Astoria catches a glimpse of her from the corner of her eyes, she thinks for a moment that she is their mother. They have the same refined features, the same dark hair – smooth and sleek like a horse's mane.

"Is something wrong with Draco?" she asks in one of the rare moments when she and Daphne spend time alone.

More and more frequently, Daphne is surrounded by friends. They go to Hogsmeade together, giggling as they link their arms and pull their knee socks down and their skirts up to tease the boys. Sometimes, though, Daphne will feel sentimental and ask Astoria if she'd like to let her test out some hair and beauty spells on her, or if she'd like to eat breakfast with her. Astoria never refuses.

When Astoria asks Daphne this question – as Daphne tightly braids her hair into a fishtail dangling down her back – Daphne pauses for a moment. Something flickers in her eyes before she shrugs. "There's a lot going on right now," she says cryptically. "It's best you don't ask too many questions, Tori."

Then, in a rare moment of sisterly affection, Daphne pulls her close and whispers in her ear, "Be careful, okay?"

Astoria remembers these words of warning whenever she finds herself watching Draco, his mouth set in a grim line as he stalks down the halls on his way to class. When he catches her looking at him, he stares back until she looks away, and she can't help but wonder what he is thinking.


	2. Chapter 2

On her fourteenth birthday, Astoria wakes up to gifts piled around her pillow like a small fort.

"What's going on?" she exclaims, momentarily frightened by the feeling of being boxed in.

Her best friend, a catlike, pale girl named Clarisse, giggles and drops another "gift" onto her face – a ball of yarn charmed to move in the jerky manner of a giant insect. Astoria shrieks and flails about, the presents tumbling to the ground as the girls in the dormitory laugh.

Daphne bounds over, ever the charming older sister and fluffs Astoria's hair, tsking. "It's your special day," she says, her voice almost a purr. More frequently, Astoria has noticed her sister taking on the particular tone that the French girls from Beaubaxtons used when they visited. It amuses her how sultry and jaded Daphne tries to be – but then again, it works, so perhaps the joke is on her. "You'll let me dress you up, won't you?"

Sometimes, she is certain that Daphne only sees her as a doll for her amusement. But since it's her birthday and she's in high spirits, she concedes, letting Daphne perform curling enchantments on her hair and pursing her lips to allow for lipstick application while she opens her gifts.

She's received a pretty gold necklace from Mother and Father (in the shape of an owl, her favorite animal) and some of her favorite toffee caramels. Daphne, predictably, has given her a set of hand mirrors that are enchanted to tell her when she needs more color in her cheeks. Clarisse and the other girls in the dorm have pooled their money together to buy her a lovely new set of dress robes ("We thought that shade of green would be _so _divine on you!" Clarisse exclaimed) and a book of love potions. She rolls her eyes and tosses the book under her pillow, blushing as she mutters her thanks.

At breakfast, she is in high spirits. Some of the boys at the table wish her a happy birthday, and she sees Corwin, a shy Ravenclaw whom she often studies with, making her way up to the table.

"Hi Astoria," he says brightly, trying to ignore the glances from the rest of the Slytherin table. He pushes a small package at her. "Happy birthday."

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything!" Astoria exclaims, embarrassed but a bit pleased. Corwin is quite handsome, after all, in a scholarly sort of way, and she's never received a gift from a boy before. "What is it?"

"Well, open it."

She peels together the shoddily wrapped package to find a small, leather bound journal.

"Thank you, it's lovely!" she says, smiling at him.

Corwin blushes and turns away. "Well I know what you said about how much you liked to journal, so… I thought it'd be a useful gift." He clears his throat. "I also wrote something in it for you."

"That's very thoughtful," she says and starts to open the journal when he stops her.

"It's okay, you can read it later," he stammers, before waving awkwardly and walking away.

As soon as he leaves, the teasing starts in.

"Ooh, I didn't know you had a boyfriend," Daphne coos from across the table. "I'm so proud of my little sister."

Regina, Daphne's friend, cocks her head and says, "So, are you in looove, Tori?"

Astoria blushes and grits her teeth. She hates it when people call her Tori.

Clarisse looks like she wants to say something, but knowing that Astoria is mortified, simply bites her lip and smiles slyly at her. She's grateful that she doesn't ask any questions, since she wouldn't know what to say anyhow. She wants to open the journal and read Corwin's note to her, but feels uncomfortable with so many eyes on her.

Before she can, though, the journal is snatched out of her hand. She turns around in a panic to see Blaise Zabini flipping it open, a smirk on his handsome face.

"Let's see what kind of love letter we have here," he says loudly, causing the Slytherin table to erupt into laughter. Astoria looks around helplessly, but even Daphne simply shrugs her shoulders delicately and smiles.

"Hey, give that back," Astoria cries out, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks.

"Yeah, give it back to her," Clarisse echoes, but Blaise pays no attention.

He opens to the first page and clears his voice dramatically. "Let's see what we have here," he says, before beginning to read slowly and loudly. "Dear Astoria, I'm so glad that I met you this year…"

Suddenly, the journal snaps closed with a loud _crack_, making Blaise yelp as he pulls his fingers out of the way just in time. It then flies through the air, into a bored-looking Draco Malfoy's waiting hand.

"Oh stop it, Blaise," he drawls, and Astoria notices that recently, he's been looking worse than usual. His eyes are ringed with dark circles and his skin is so pale, she can see the blue veins coursing beneath it. Somehow, though, he still manages to cut an intimidating figure as he gazes impassively at Blaise, who glares back. "No one wants to hear that drivel. And besides, it's her birthday. Give the poor girl a break, won't you?"

He hands the journal back to Astoria, who takes it wordlessly, too shocked to say anything. He doesn't even meet her eyes as he does so and immediately afterwards stands up to leave the table. "I'm going to Potions, now. Are you coming, Blaise, or are you just going to stand there like gaping like an imbecile?"

With that, he walks out of the Great Hall, leaving Astoria to stare after him wonderingly.

After the table clears out, she finally opens the journal and sees Corwin's scratchy scrawl.

"What does it say?" Clarisse asks, squirming next to her. Astoria doesn't blame her – neither of them has had a boyfriend yet, and any potential in their lives is regarded as a great event. "Is it okay if I read it too?"

"Sure," Astoria responds, scooting over so that Clarisse can read over her shoulder.

The note reads:

_Dear Astoria, _

_I'm so glad that I met you this year. You've really been a good friend to me and a great study partner as well. I don't think there is any girl in our year that is as clever as you, even amongst my fellow Ravenclaws. Don't let them catch me saying that, though! Have a wonderful day. You deserve it. _

_Cheers,_

_Corwin_

Astoria blushes as she reads it, and beside her, Clarisse sucks in her breath.

"That's so niiiiice," she squeals. "I wish a boy would write me something like that."

"Do you think he fancies me?" Astoria asks.

"I think so. Although you should probably ask your sister. She definitely knows more about boys."

For the rest of the day, Astoria is distracted by the prospect of what she would say if she ran into Corwin. She also wonders how to bring up the note to Daphne without giving her cause to tease her for the next year. As she is walking from her Charms class to the Great Hall at the end of the day, she thinks she sees Corwin ahead of her and ducks into a different hallway to avoid him. She doesn't know why she does it, but she just feels her stomach start to knot when she thinks of how nervous she'll be, and how she won't have anything interesting to say to him. So she hides.

Once she turns the corner (and makes sure that no one is following her), she notices a lone figure in the hallway with her. Draco Malfoy is leaning against a wall; his schoolbag slumped to the ground. His face looks drawn and pale, and he seems to be deep in thought.

Astoria considers turning back around and walking to the Great Hall, but she is curious, and after all, she hasn't yet thanked Draco for his earlier kindness. So she approaches him cautiously. He glances at her as she approaches, but doesn't say anything.

"Are you alright?" she asks, stopping a few feet away from him.

"I'm fine, just haven't been sleeping much," he mutters.

"I just wanted to, you know, thank you for what you did earlier," she twists her foot back and forth as she says this, a nervous habit of hers. He looks at her, his eyes unreadable, and she goes on. "It was really quite nice of you, you to save me from being humiliated over breakfast."

His lips twitch, but he does not smile. "Don't worry about it." He pauses, and then adds, "I'm not a very nice person."

"Well, let me know if you can do anything to repay you," Astoria says, smiling at him because she does not know what else to do.

He nods.

"Are you going to go eat dinner now? Do you want to walk together?" she asks, though the last thing she wants to do is spend more time feeling tongue tied and uncomfortable in his presence.

He shakes his head. "I actually have to get to the library," he says. "You go on ahead."

"Okay," she says, and begins to walk away. As she reaches the end of the hallway, she turns around. Draco Malfoy remains slumped against the wall, and she gets the distinct feeling, once again, that something is wrong with him. She turns the corner, leaving him alone with his thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

"Can you pass me the bottle of ink, please?"

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Astoria settles into her seat uncomfortably, glancing at Corwin out of the corner of her eye. It has been a month since he gave her the journal for her birthday, and even though they are unofficially "dating," he remains unfailingly polite, treating her more like a professor than a romantic interest.

Not that she would know what a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship looks like, per se, but she did have an inkling that something was off when Clarisse interrogated her the other night.

"So do you think you love him?" she asked, starry-eyed.

Astoria shook her head. "No, no way. It's too soon to tell."

"Have you kissed, at least?"

Clarisse had looked so hopeful that Astoria hadn't had the heart to tell her that even holding hands was a dramatic and solemn affair for Corwin.

So she nodded and tried to look as convincing as possible. "Yes."

Clarisse squealed. "Ooh, how come you didn't tell me? Your first kiss!"

"It went… well."

The whole thought makes Astoria squirm with embarrassment, but she certainly can't go back on her story now. Not when the whole Slytherin girls dormitory (and likely most of the boys dormitory as well) has heard about her supposed first kiss which occurred in the Goblin Rebellions section of the library.

She and Corwin do spend a fair amount of time in the library, though they are always studying. Corwin, a particularly serious scholar, sometimes will smile at her and touch her hand with a nervous smile, but that's as far as he's gotten. Once, she thinks she heard him mumble, "You look nice."

Still, as nice as it is to be one of the first girls in her year to have a "boyfriend" – "You're sooo lucky, even if he's a Ravenclaw!" a girl named Lily whines at her – Astoria suspects that she doesn't feel the way she's supposed to when she's with Corwin. For the most part, he seems like a pleasant addition to her study routine, but even so, there are times when she'd rather read and write her essays in peace. And the elusive butterflies, which Daphne references all the time, are most certainly missing from her stomach.

After another half hour of silent library time with Corwin, Astoria feigns a yawn. "I think I'm going to go back to my dorm now, Corwin," she says. "I'm getting pretty tired."

Corwin smiles vaguely at her and says, "Okay, Astoria. Goodnight." She can tell he's distracted by his essay (which is already two feet of parchment long), and so she gets up and gathers her things to leave.

The hallways outside the library are dark, with the torches dimly lit for students making their way back to their dormitories at night. Astoria wraps her cloak around her tighter. She gets cold easily, and besides, she's never liked the dark. When she was younger, she used to sneak into Daphne's room in the middle of the night when she was afraid and crawl into bed with her. Daphne always made a big show of being annoyed – rolling her eyes and sighing loudly – but she always let Astoria stay.

Rounding a corner, deep in thought about Corwin and how this isn't at all what she expected or wanted, she nearly collides with another body. She gasps, her throat tightening in sudden, irrational fear, and stumbles backwards, her books and papers scattering to the floor.

The flushed cheeks, the unnaturally blond hair, the strange, cold glint in his eyes.

Of course.

She has run into Draco Malfoy.

"I'm sorry," she blurts out, a bit breathlessly. Ever since Draco saved her from dire embarrassment at the breakfast table, things have been a bit strange between them. Well, not strange, but he's acknowledged her presence more than he did before. When he passes her in the hallways, he sometimes says "Hello," in his clipped, serious way, or nods in her direction. She doesn't know what to make of all this, but she's still terribly intimidated whenever she sees him.

Draco appears disoriented as he looks at her, his eyes a bit glazed over. Lately, he's often had this look – as though his mind is constantly elsewhere. He clears his throat and looks from her to the books and pens scattered on the ground. Then his eyes snap back into focus.

"Oh, Astoria Greengrass," he says, as though he's trying to place her. "You startled me. Let me help you with those."

They both crouch on the ground to gather the fallen books and papers. Up close, Astoria steals a glance and notices how gaunt Draco has become, how his skin seems almost see-through. Though he is taller than her and always commands a presence, she realizes, with an odd pang of protectiveness, that he looks worn out. There is a vulnerability to him up close that makes her want to reach out to him.

He hands her the History of Magic book and she takes it awkwardly, looking at his hands instead of his face. When they stand up, he shoves his hands into his cloak.

"Getting some studying done?"

"Yes," she responds, acutely aware of how strange her voice sounds as it echoes through the cold hallway. "I have a History of Magic essay due soon, and I can't seem to motivate myself. It's a bit of a boring topic."

"Right," he nods, and she notices how tight his jaw is, how tense he looks. "I remember how that was."

An awkward silence hangs over them. Draco is looking at her, but Astoria averts her gaze, staring at the stone walls instead. "So, where are you coming from?"

She thinks she seems Draco stiffen, though perhaps she is imagining it. "Just some work," he says vaguely. "I'm heading back to the dormitory now, though. I'm exhausted."

She nods and decides not to push the subject. He _does_ look exhausted, and she feels sorry for him. Whatever he is working on, it's a secret. No one else in Slytherin knows what has turned Draco's mood so serious in the past year, and everyone is afraid to ask. With the connections that his family has, it could turn out to be something quite dark indeed…

"Are you going back as well?" Draco asks, interrupting her thoughts. "I'll walk with you, if you don't mind. Sometimes I could use the company to keep my mind from… wandering."

She nods and tries to smile at him, even though her heart is racing. She has this problem where when she's with people who make her feel intimidated – Draco Malfoy, for example, or Professor Snape, for another example – she can't get through too many words without either becoming a blathering idiot or stammering so badly that she can't get a coherent thought out.

Nonetheless, Draco looks particularly troubled, so she says, "Of course. I'm afraid of the dark anyway, so it'll probably be better if I have someone with me."

He smiles back faintly as they walk. She can see it from the corner of her eye. "Afraid of the dark? What do you reckon's going to get you, anyway?"

"Boggarts, bats, banshees, etcetera," she lists off idly. "Werewolves, ghosts, creepy slimy unidentifiable things… you know."

"You've got a wand, you know," he points out, taking on a more lighthearted tone than she's accustomed to. "And you seem like a smart enough witch for your year. I'm sure you could ward off most of those threats, even the unidentifiable things."

She smiles wryly. "_For a witch of your year_," she mimics him. "Thank you for putting me in my place."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," she says. "I suppose I'm just afraid of the unknown. Put any creature in front of me in broad daylight, and I think I could handle it. But you never know what's out there in the darkness. You never know how close it can get to you."

He nods and his face turns serious again.

Astoria gets the distinct feeling that she has said something wrong, but she can't figure out what. So she bites her tongue and they trudge towards the dungeons in silence. She occasionally glances over to see his face clouded, as though he is deep in thought.

"Astoria," he finally asks hesitantly, breaking the silence. "Do you think I'm a bad person?"

She stops in her tracks and looks at him wonderingly. Is he really asking her this question? But he looks so serious that she knows that he is not joking. She answers slowly.

"I don't think you're a bad person at all," she says. "Especially based on my experience with you. I don't know you well, Draco, but I know that you defended me when I needed it. And I know that anyone who would ask that question must have a conscience."

He stares at her impassively and she wonders what he could be thinking.

"And besides," she says, trying to crack a smile. "You shouldn't listen to what those Gryffindor gits say about you anyway, eh? One girl called my sister the whore of Babylon the other day."

His lips twitch slightly upwards at this. "That's a terrible thing to say," he mutters.

Astoria nods solemnly. "It is. But the worst part is that they called me the prude of Babylon in comparison."

They are standing in the hallway outside the dormitories, facing each other now. Draco smiles down at her, though his eyes still look troubled. "Don't listen to them," he says. "That's so unoriginal."

"Right," she says, her breath catching as she looks back up at him. His eyes are gray and unreadable. "You shouldn't listen to them either."

He nods and then turns away abruptly. Astoria follows him as he gives the password and they walk into the Slytherin Common Room in silence. As she moves towards the girls staircase, she turns around and catches his gaze for a second as he turns towards the boys dormitory.

"Goodnight, Draco," she murmurs.


	4. Chapter 4

_This is just mortifying, _she thinks to herself as she crouches behind the doorway of the library, waiting for Corwin to leave so that he doesn't flag her over to sit with him. Two months into their "relationship," and she's already resorting to squishing herself in between a door and the wall in order to avoid spending time with him. She must be doing something wrong.

She remembers the conversation she had with Daphne last week.

"Is kissing… gross?" she asked as Daphne sat there performing quick dry spells on her fingernails, which were painted green with silver polka dots.

Daphne had paused mid drying spell and given her a hard look. "Tori," she said, and Astoria cringed at the nickname. "If you think kissing is gross, then you're doing it wrong."

Astoria had tried not to look as dismayed as she felt. "Doing it wrong?" she repeated.

"Daphne gave her a long look and then sighed. "Maybe you're just not using enough tongue or something," she said. "Try it out and see if it helps."

Well, the tongue thing had certainly _not _helped, which leads to why Astoria now feels the need to duck into another hallway each time she sees Corwin approaching her. Her attempt to kiss the right way has been taken as an invitation to slobber all over her each time he encounters her, and it's just very, well… distasteful.

"What in the world are you doing, Astoria?" a voice sounds behind her, and she jumps.

She turns around and is relieved to see that it is not Corwin, or one of the more obnoxious members of her class (like Sylvia, the girl who fawns over Blaise Zabini like he's a god). It's just Clarisse, who is standing there with an armful of books looking amused.

"I thought we were going to meet to study today?"

"_He's_ in there, though," Astoria hisses, looking around to make sure that Corwin is still seated at the table, deeply engrossed with academia.

"Who?" Clarisse cranes her neck into the doorway. "Oh right. Sir Snogs Like a Dog. I don't know why you haven't told him that you simply don't want to be with him anymore."

"It's not that easy," Astoria whispers, and Clarisse raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. "We study together. He's always been a great help in Potions."

"Right. And this hiding behind the door of the library thing is doing wonders for your grades, I'm sure," Clarisse deadpans, giving Astoria a knowing look.

Astoria cannot help it – she starts to giggle at the sheer absurdity of it, and soon, they are both laughing, hanging onto each other for support. She is so engrossed that she doesn't notice when Clarisse stops abruptly, looking through the doorway with panic.

"He's coming right now," she says out of the corner of her mouth as she positions herself to stand fully in the doorway. She gives a fake smile in Corwin's direction and gives a cheery wave. "If you want to be a coward about this, then I suggest you run now."

Astoria doesn't need to be told twice; she gathers up her schoolbooks and bolts down the hallway, mouthing, "I owe you one," at Clarisse as she disappears behind a corner just in time to hear Clarisse say, "Oh _hello _Corwin. No I don't know what you're talking about – I didn't hear Astoria at all. Maybe you're hearing things…"

She barrels down the hallway before slowing down. She still has quite a bit of studying to do, and though she wishes that she could be studying with Clarisse as planned, she'll just have to get through it on her own. After all, Charms isn't her best subject and she should get a head start, especially since she will be busy this year with the independent study in Herbology that Professor Sprout is letting her do.

She finds a doorway that leads to a balcony with two stone tables. It's a bit chilly outside, but she wraps her robe around her tightly and piles her books on the table. Might as well start now.

She is halfway through a chapter about drying charms – which apparently make laundry drastically easier – when she hears a throat clearing behind her.

"Oh, Greengrass. I didn't know anyone else was out here."

She turns around, though she already recognizes the voice. Draco Malfoy is standing in the doorway of the balcony. Perhaps it is just her imagination, but he looks worse every day. His skin is sallow and pale, and his hair (which she had so coveted as a little girl), lies limp against his head. He too is carrying an armful of books, quills and parchment.

"I just thought I'd get some studying done out here," she says, gesturing stupidly at the piles of parchment and books in front of her.

"Me too," he says, still standing awkwardly in the doorway. "I didn't want to go to the library. It's just too much to be around all those people sometimes."

He looks at her, and she realizes that he's waiting for her to say something. She begins to push her books over to one side of the table to make more room, and then says, trying not to stammer, "You can come join me if you'd like. You won't be alone, but I promise I won't say a word if you'd prefer silence."

He cracks a smile and steps forward, setting down his school supplies and helping her move hers to the side. "I think that's quite alright," he says, picking up a book. "_Four_ books on elm? Are you bloody obsessed with trees or something?"

She shrugs. "It's for my independent study with Professor Sprout. I'm writing a thesis on elm's magical properties, particularly as related to wand-making. It's actually more fascinating than it looks."

He nods and flips through the book idly, then puts it in a pile neatly with her other books. She turns back to her Charms book, trying to look like she's reading when she is really watching Draco, who shuffles through his supplies aimlessly, finally taking out a quill and piece of parchment.

Even when he looks as though he's been missing sleep for the past three months, there's a refined elegance to Draco. His jaw is angular, and his eyes flash a cold gray so that every gaze seems to radiate intensity. He begins scribbling rapidly on the parchment, and she realizes that he's writing a letter and not working on schoolwork. He stares at the parchment intently, scratching in tiny, close-together letters.

She feels invasive watching him writing, and so she turns back to her book and tries to get through another few pages on drying charms, which have some of the most boring uses she's ever read. Since she's not doing so well in the class, though, she sighs and dutifully makes notes in the margins, underlining things like, "This charm is especially useful when coming out of the bath without an available towel."

She doesn't realize that he's stopped writing until he speaks.

"You're not very much like Daphne, are you?"

She looks up to see him scrutinizing her, his gray eyes more quizzical and cold as he takes her in.

"I guess not," she shrugs, not knowing what else to say. She knows what people think when they see her with Daphne – she is the more serious, less charming sister. Though they both have the same dark hair and features, Daphne has a devil-may-care charm to her that inevitably draws people in. Astoria, on the other hand, is quiet and bookish and feels more comfortable amongst those she's known for a long time.

"You just seem more introspective," he says, and she thinks, _Well, that's a nice way of putting it_. "I've known Daphne for years, and I reckon I always thought you'd be a version of her, but you're not. You're interesting." He gestures towards her books. "You're working on a thesis in wand-making properties. I suppose you're not what I expected."

Astoria tires not to blush as she looks pointedly at his ear so as to avoid eye contact. She's never heard someone – especially a boy – compare her to her sister in a way that's flattering. Especially not an older boy.

"Thank you," she says, smiling shyly back at him. She twists the end of a quill in her hands beneath the table, grateful that he can't see her nervous tic. "It's alright – everyone thinks I'm just mini-Daphne anyway. I'm pretty sure that all the boys in my year are disappointed that they got me instead of her."

He looks baffled. "Why would you think that?'

"I don't know – Daphne's always been, well the one with that certain brand of charm, you know," she says, feeling self conscious. She doesn't know why she's telling him all of this, but there is something about him that compels her to share this secret with him. "She's very feminine and easily flirtatious, and she gets along with everyone. Even when we were younger, she was always the carefree, sociable one at my parents' parties."

Draco shakes his head. "I always found her preening annoying, to be honest," he says, and she's grateful when he smiles wryly at her. "I'd much rather have you in my year than Daphne."

This time, Astoria really blushes. "Thanks," she murmurs, then turns back to her Charms book distractedly. She looks up after a moment to find him staring off into the distance. The sky is beginning to grow dark, and she draws her robe around her tighter. He glances at her and at the pile of books in front of her.

"Do you want me to perform a lighting spell on some of those torches?" he asks, pointing to the stone torches at the side of the building.

"It's alright," she says, and begins to gather up her things. "I'm starting to get hungry, anyway. Do you want to come down to the kitchens with me? Daphne showed me the way, once, and the elves always give you as much food as you'd like. I didn't see you at dinner…"

She feels awkward, suddenly, admitting that she had noticed his absence at dinner. He doesn't seem to notice though, and simply nods.

"I'd like that," he says, and she feels oddly... relieved for him. She hadn't realized how worried she was about how gaunt and sickly he'd become. "I have to meet with Professor Snape afterwards, but I could use some food."

"You really could," she says, immediately regretting it.

He simply smirks in her direction though. "Thank you for your assessment. I just haven't had an appetite in a long time, but you're right. I should eat something."

They make their way in silence down to the kitchens, making sure that no one is following them. Two Slytherins caught sneaking to the kitchen would be very bad on their house points indeed.

Through the doorway, the house elves hand them a basket of meat pies and loaves of bread with butter and jam, and they sneak into an empty classroom to eat them while sitting against a wall.

"Food actually tastes quite good sometimes," Draco says, looking bemused as he picks up a forkful of meat pie.

"Mmmhmmph," Astoria says, somewhat ungracefully, her mouth too full of a bread roll slathered with butter to say anything.

They eat in relative silence, except for an occasional "Pass the butter, please," and "Can you hand me a slice of that pie?" Draco looks thoughtful again, and she wonders if he'll ever tell her what's on his mind. If he'll ever tell anyone.

"I should go see Professor Snape," he finally mutters, and she notices that his eyes have darkened. She doesn't say anything. "Are you sure you'll be okay getting back to the dungeons by yourself? Or do you want me to walk you?"

He glances at his watch and looks agitated, so she shakes her head. "It's alright. I don't want to make you late. I can certainly take care of myself," she says, brandishing her wand dramatically.

He nods his head distractedly and walks towards the door. Before walking out, he turns around and hesitates. "Thanks, Astoria," he finally says.

Then he disappears, and Astoria is left wondering where that funny feeling in the pit of her stomach came from.

**If you enjoyed this, please review! Thank youuuu dear readers ****. **


	5. Chapter 5

"I just don't understand why you've been spending so much time with him." Clarisse looks alarmed as she says this; she bites her lower lip and twists at the bottom of her skirt. "I mean, you do know that he's a…" she looks around to make sure that no one is listening. "_Death Eater_, right? Or at least that's what I've heard…"

"Those are just rumors," Astoria says uncomfortably, trying to push away images of the Dark Mark looming in the sky. She's never seen Draco's forearm, but still – Death Eaters aren't as numerous as people think, or at least that is what her mother has told her. "People have accused my parents of being Death Eaters, and they're definitely not."

"Well, I'm just saying."

"And besides, I've only seen him once or twice. He offered to help me with Potions."

"I thought _Corwin_ was helping you with Potions."

Astoria gives Clarisse an annoyed look, but the irritation melts away when she sees the concerned look in Clarisse's eyes. The other girl looks truly worried, and in some ways, Astoria doesn't blame her – it's common knowledge around the school that the Malfoys are, well, a _dangerous_ family to associate with.

"He's only tutored me twice, Clarisse," she says, scooting over so that they are sitting side by side on Clarisse's bed, their shoulders touching. "It's nothing terrible."

"I just get worried that he's going to use you for some sick Death Eater torture project," Clarisse admits, shuddering. She laughs shortly, but the laughter doesn't reach her eyes. "I mean, he does seem like the sort, doesn't he?"

"You're a good friend," Astoria says in response, slinging her arm around Clarisse's shoulder. "I'll be careful, I promise."

She doesn't blame Clarisse for being a bit wary of Draco – it does seem odd that he'd suddenly decide to tutor Astoria in Potions. But in a way, she understands why he chose to do so. From what she can tell, there is something dark plaguing him, and she's certain that an hour or two a week of "volunteer work" keeps his mind busy.

As it is a Saturday, the girls are sitting on Clarisse's bed, having just finished painting their nails. Astoria's stomach hurts from all the chocolate frogs and fizzing whizbees she's eaten, but she can't seem to learn her lesson.

As if reading her mind, Clarisse places a hand on her own stomach and groans. "This always happens."

"Well you're the one who drank five mugs of hot chocolate."

"And all that marshmallow crème…"

"What were you _thinking_?"

Clarisse grins back at her and nods at Astoria's hand, which is clutching at her own abdomen as well. "The same thing you were thinking when you ate four pumpkin pasties at once. Good _heavens_, Tori," she says, mocking Daphne's tone. "Whatever will become of your figure?"

The girls burst into fits of laughter and spend the rest of the day in bed, reading old issues of Witch Weekly and studying for their tests – while avoiding the library (and consequently Corwin).

The following week, Astoria finally gets up the courage to approach Corwin. Or, rather, she runs into him and for once, cannot escape.

As she walks to Charms class one day, her mind on a recent conversation she had with Daphne who told her that bushy eyebrows were unsightly (to which she responded, "I do not have bushy eyebrows!" and Daphne gave her a knowing look, saying, "Some of us have sharper eyes than others, Tori."), she hears a throat clearing beside her.

She turns to see Corwin, looking at her with a rather grave expression on his face.

_Damn Daphne and damn her making me feel self conscious about my non-existent bushy eyebrows_, she thinks efore plastering on a fake smile.

"Oh hello, Corwin!" she chirps, her eyes darting around for anyone at all to save her. "Fancy running into you."

Corwin ignores her cheery greeting and fixes her with a glare. "Astoria," he says, in his slow, measured way. She can't help but roll her eyes, thinking of how he sounds like he's about to give a presentation in class. "I had high expectations when I asked you to be my paramour."

"Did you now?" she asks meekly.

"And I must say you haven't lived up to any of them."

"Hey!" she retorts, feeling a bit offended. She hasn't lived up to any of _his_ romantic expectations? Well what does he expect? To woo a girl with his impressive study skills and big slimy tongue?

"You've missed our past five study dates, you hardly listen to me when I'm trying to go over my thesis ideas with you even though I know the ins and outs of your thesis on elm…"

"Not because you listened to me!" she hisses. "Just because you wanted to steal my thesis idea… I saw you sneaking through my notes when I left to use the restroom!"

He continues as though he hasn't heard her. "I'm quite disappointed. I have to inform you…"

"NO!" she yells, surprising even herself. The students in the hallway around her pause and stare as she jabs at Corwin in the chest, and even he looks taken aback. She ignores them. "_I _am the one who has to inform you that this little liaison of ours is over."

He sputters, but she continues. "I find you boring and pretentious, Corwin. And I _did_ listen to you rattle on and on about your thesis, and quite frankly, I find the idea of a 20-foot essay on optimal vacuuming techniques horrid."

She storms away before he can fully respond, but as she rounds the corner, she hears him finally speak up, "Well at least I'm not the ugly duckling in my family!"

Tears sting at her eyes and she ducks into an empty classroom and slumps into one of the desks. It's stupid, really, crying over a boy she never even cared about. But it's just the way that he said it – saying that she didn't live up to any of his expectations and that she disappointed him. And the worst part – the whole "ugly ducking of the family" bit.

It's not that she hasn't always suspected that boys like Daphne better than they like her. Ever since she can remember, Daphne's the one who looks more and more like their lovely mother each day. Astoria takes more after her father – she has the same long limbs, the shyness, the defined (not bushy – she thinks) eyebrows. She wishes sometimes that she was petite and voluptuous, with that red tint to her hair that Daphne has. But it's silly to wish to be someone else.

Nonetheless, she thinks, as she wipes away her tears angrily, it's quite a low point when your first boyfriend tells you that he'd rather be with your sister – even when _you're_ the one who's more academically-inclined. Of all the boys, she thought at least the bookish Ravenclaws would value her intelligence more.

A knock on the door snaps her back into focus.

"Hey," her sister's voice calls out. Daphne steps into the room, looking as lovely as ever, and just a little bit guilty. Astoria can tell that she's heard the things that Corwin shouted at her. "I'm sorry about what he said," Daphne says, leaning over the desk to hug Astoria. "It's all just stupid and untrue. I mean, I would _kill_ to have those brows."

Astoria sniffs. "You said they were bushy."

"I was just jealous. They're divine. I hate my little skinny brows."

Astoria knows that Daphne's just being nice, but still – it feels good to have her sister say that she envies one of her traits.

"Boys are all daft anyway, Astoria," Daphne says softly, pulling Astoria's hair back and twisting it into a bun. "Come on, let me pretty you up a little. You can walk by him later and he'll just _die _of jealousy."

Astoria gives her a small smile in return. "No thanks," she says. "I think I'd rather just be alone right now…"

"Okay," Daphne says, being uncharacteristically kind. She pats Astoria on the head and walks towards the door. "I'll tell Professor Flitwick that you had to go to the Hospital Wing for a stomachache."

"Thank you, Daphne."

Daphne turns and shrugs. "Well, that's what big sisters are for, right?"

Astoria spends a few minutes in the empty classroom, reveling in the silence from the hallways once all the students have gone into class. After fifteen minutes though, she feels bored and more angry than tragic. Why should she have to mope around about a boy who called her "disappointing" when he himself couldn't kiss for beans, anyway?

"Why indeed!" she mutters to herself before stalking off into the empty hallway, looking around to make sure that Mrs. Norris, that horrid cat, isn't spying on her.

It is just her luck, of course, that she rounds a corner and sees Draco Malfoy standing in front of a blank wall, looking quite serious. He startles, turning around with a furious expression when she rounds the corner. The cold fury in his eyes scares her, and for a moment, she continues turning on her heel and pretending she didn't see him.

But then he speaks.

"Astoria," he says, and the intensity of his eyes dims a bit, making him look a little more human and vulnerable. "What in the world are you doing here?"

She approaches cautiously as he slumps against the wall, not even bothering to hide his exhaustion. In the past couple weeks she's come to know Draco as both serious and wry. She also knows that he's very secretive.

"I skipped class," she says, and he nods his head instead of asking for an explanation. "I'm really sorry if I startled you."

"It's okay," he says, his voice ragged, and she feels guilty for some reason, as though she's walked in on something that she shouldn't have. She thinks back to what Clarisse said early, about how there were rumors that he was a Death Eater, but pushes them from her mind. They're silly, malicious rumors, she tells herself. Nothing to take seriously.

She slides down next to him and rummages in her book bag before pulling out a chocolate frog that went uneaten during her last weekend binge with Clarisse. "You look like you could use some chocolate," she says.

He takes it without looking at her and takes a bite. Slowly, a bit of the usual flush returns to his pale face. "So," he says conversationally. "I hear you broke up with your boyfriend."

She stiffens and feels the blush rise to her cheeks. "Yes," she says, forcing a laugh. "Did Daphne tell you?"

He shakes his head. "It's sort of all around the school right now. I hear there was a shouting match." He cocks his head and scrutinizes her expression. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she murmurs, feeling more humiliated than she had before. All over the school? She's never done something so out of character before. She certainly isn't the type to have an emotional outburst, and now all the girls will be whispering about how Astoria Greengrass had a mental breakdown and screamed at a boy in the halls. And _then_ cut class.

She looks over at him and he's still looking at her with that same unnerving expression, as though he's trying to read her. In fact, it makes her feel as if he _is_ reading her, as if he already knows what she's thinking. She averts her gaze quickly.

"Well," he says in a forced jovial way. "I know what will make you feel better."

She bites her tongue before she says that it seems as though _he's_ the one that needs to feel better. It's true, but she doesn't want to ruin the mood when he's trying to be nice.

"You do?"

"Yes," he says. "Meet me at that balcony where you do homework tonight."

She raises an eyebrow. "You think a tutoring session in Potions will make me feel better? You're unnecessarily cruel sometimes."

He smirks back. "Don't be daft, Greengrass. I'll have a nice surprise for you, or some rubbish like that."

She smiles and he smiles back, and it makes her feel as though everything is going to be alright.

She can't help wondering though, what exactly he was staring at when she walked into the hallway.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for all the sweet reviews! I really appreciate it ****. **

She is nervous.

She's not a particularly anxious person in general, at least not in the public way that her mother can be – fanning her face and explaining, "Goodness, I feel _so_ high strung today."

But as she fiddles with the strings of her cloak (it should be a cold night, after all) and pins her hair behind her ears, she can't help but feel a bit apprehensive.

"That's the spirit!" Daphne says as she saunters through the girls' dormitory, pausing in front of the full-length mirror to adjust her skirt length. Daphne is constantly fiddling with the hem of her skirt, trying to decide the perfect balance between alluring and scandalous. She gives Astoria an approving look and leans over to adjust the collar of her shirt. "You're going to make that Conrad boy sooo jealous."

"Corwin," Astoria reminds her.

Daphne rolls her eyes. "Whatever. It's not important anymore, is it?" She tries to fluff some blush over Astoria's cheeks, but her sister ducks out of the way and Daphne shrugs her shoulders. "You look quite pretty, Tori. The stupid boy's going to trip over himself when he sees you in the library tonight."

Astoria doesn't bother to tell her sister that she isn't going to the library – that in fact, she most likely won't see Corwin at all tonight. Behind her, she can see Clarisse give her a knowing look. Astoria still hasn't told her that Draco told her to meet him for a "surprise" tonight – she doesn't know how that would be taken.

She sees Draco as, well not quite as a friend, but more of a tentative acquaintance. She doesn't really know how it came to be that he started paying attention to her, but she finds herself drawn to him. She's not fully comfortable in his presence, but at the same time, she feels as though he understands her better than most people do. Better than most of the boys in her year, anyway.

She doesn't quite know what to expect from him, and, as she makes her way to the balcony where they first did schoolwork together, she realizes that she doesn't quite know what to expect of tonight either.

_He could torture you; he's a Death Eater,_ Clarisse's voice reminds her in the back of her consciousness, but she pushes it away. That's ridiculous, she thinks. There's no way Draco would hurt her.

_But you stumbled upon him doing something in that hallway, didn't you? Maybe he doesn't want anyone to know that he was there._

She shivers and pulls the cloak tighter around her, almost wishing that she had told Clarisse where she was going. But anyways, if he had planned to hurt her, wouldn't he have done so right then and there in the empty hallway, before she could say anything to anyone else? It doesn't make sense to be afraid of him, she thinks as she rounds the corner to the hallway that leads to the balcony.

When she arrives at the balcony, Draco is already there, sitting on top of the table with his back facing her. Something about him in that moment seems more vulnerable and childlike than usual – he looks especially frail when he's sitting there hunched over, his wispy blond hair disturbed by the night breeze. She stands there for a moment, observing him, before clearing her throat hesitantly.

He whips his head around immediately.

"You made it!" he exclaims, showing a rare grin, and she blushes in response. He seems in remarkably high spirits and she glances around, trying to figure out what his plans are for the night.

She doesn't see anything until her eyes settle on two shapes beneath the table, and her heart lurches.

Broomsticks.

Two bloody broomsticks. Just her luck.

Draco doesn't seem to notice her expression of concern, becomes he hops off the table and grabs the broomsticks with aplomb.

"I thought we could go for a night ride around the castle," he says. "Fly up around the steeples all those other places they always tell us are _too dangerous_."

He's so uncharacteristically excited and seems, well, happy for once. So Astoria swallows what she wants to say, which is, "I am so bloody afraid of heights that I want to piss myself right now," and instead gives him the biggest (and most nauseated) smile she can muster.

"That sounds _great_," she says, trying to feign excitement. He tosses her a broomstick and she catches it, trying not to look as though she's holding the instrument to her young demise in her hands. _Merlin, he really did want me dead_, she thinks miserably. She hasn't touched a broom since the mandatory flying lessons in her first year, and she hasn't regretted that a bit.

He mounts his broomstick and eases it into the air, hovering slightly above her. "Come on now," he says, oblivious to her absolute misery. "I can't wait to show you how amazing it feels to fly above the castle at night. You feel so _free_."

"Free," she repeats weakly. She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves before hopping onto her broomstick and pushing herself slightly until she's hovering about a foot off the ground. She feels nauseous already.

_You can do this, Astoria. You've done it before._

_Sure, you've never gotten above about six feet off the ground, and even that time, Madame Hooch had to come pull you off your broomstick because you were crying so hard. _

_And this time you'll only be, oh, A COUPLE HUNDRED FEET OFF THE GROUND. _

Draco has already taken off into the night sky, and Astoria tries valiantly to follow him, willing herself not to look down and instead to concentrate on the flash of blond hair in front of her.

If she just follows him and doesn't look down, then it's almost like walking…

She's quite sure her knuckles have lost all circulation from clutching the broomstick so tightly.

Every couple of yards, Draco pauses and looks back to make sure she's still following him.

"Isn't it amazing to see the Quidditch field from this height?" he calls back at her.

"Yes, absolutely!" she fibs, while looking at anything but the Quidditch field below her.

Fifteen minutes in, he has led them on a path all the way up to the owlery, where he suddenly stops and spins his broomstick around to look at her.

The moon shines behind him, touching on the unnatural blond of his hair, and for a moment, she can almost forget that she is more terrified than she's ever been and that she could, at any moment, plummet to her death.

"Isn't it beautiful up here?" he asks quietly. His eyes glint in a strange way, as though he is trying to control his emotions. "Whenever it all gets to be too much, I fly up here and just look out over Hogwarts, and it feels like everything might end up alright."

She is so transfixed by his words and how gentle he seems in that moment that he takes her advice and looks down below her… and immediately regrets it.

She feels the blood drain from her body as she looks down at the dizzyingly tiny Hogwarts below her. All the blinking lights and windows look like they're a million miles away, and she feels her vision blur as her eyes dart and her grip on her broomstick slackens.

The last thing she hears before she loses consciousness is Draco shouting at her, "Astoria? Astoria!"

When she comes to, she is lying on the grass and someone is pressing a cool hand to her forehead. She blinks in confusion and the world comes into focus – the Quidditch field at night, and Draco Malfoy hovering over her, looking absolutely terrified.

"You're awake!" he exclaims, the tension in his face relaxing. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she croaks, still disoriented. She looks around and notices that the broomsticks are lying neatly beside her, unbroken. So he must have reached her before she hit the ground, then. She moves her fingers and toes tentatively. No broken bones, no discernible pain. "What happened?"

"You were up in the air with me and then suddenly, you looked like you had just heard that someone had died, and the next thing I knew, you were free-falling to the ground." He shakes his head, looking grim. "I managed to catch you before you hit anything, but Merlin, that was frightening."

She tries to sit up, but he stops her and quickly pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to her. She recognizes it as a bar of chocolate and takes it gratefully, letting the warmth seep through her body as a square of chocolate melts in her mouth. "Thanks for saving me," she finally says when her teeth have stopped chattering. "I reckon I should have told you that I'm deathly afraid of heights."

He looks severely at her for a moment, but then finally chuckles and shakes his head. "You're mental," he mutters, flopping down to like on the grass next to her. "I can't believe you didn't say something."

"I haven't flown since my first year."

"_Merlin._ What were you _thinking_ following me up there?"

She feels a little foolish and is afraid that he might be mad at her, so she ventures a glance out of the corner of her eye. She feels relieved to see that he's lying on the grass with his hands behind his head, smiling up at the night sky and shaking his head wryly.

"You know what?" he says finally.

"What?"

"I think you're brave for actually going up there. Stupid, of course, but brave."

She turns her head to find that he is looking at her as well, and they lie there for a moment smiling at each other with their faces mere inches apart.

"I don't think that's the kind of surprise I was looking for to lift my spirits," she says jokingly. "First a break-up and then nearly falling to my death – what a day!"

"Well, you only live once," he says in a jaunty way that is entirely unlike him.

She sighs contentedly and turns back to the night sky, taking in the sprinkling of stars that spreads over the entire sky. "It's quite lovely to look up at the sky," she murmurs.

"Not so lovely to look down from the sky," he says teasingly.

She is about to say something in response when she suddenly sees his body tense up beside her.

"What time is it?" he asks with sudden urgency. She sits up, trying to ignore the dizzy nausea that assaults her and checks her watch.

"It's nearly 10," she says, putting a hand to her head and groaning. "Oh Merlin, we're going to be in so much trouble if Filch catches us."

"Astoria," he says, cutting off her train of thought. He puts a hand on her shoulder and she looks into his eyes to see that they are dark and serious. She swallows and goes quiet as he continues. "I have to be somewhere. Soon. And I feel terrible, but I don't have time to walk you back to the dormitory, so you're going to have to sneak back on your own. Do you understand?"

She nods silently, wondering how the evening has come to this. One moment, she's having a completely lovely time with Draco Malfoy (despite the mishap with the broomstick incident), and the next moment, he's running off as quickly as he can.

"I'm really sorry," he says, already standing up and straightening his collar. He combs his hair back into place with his fingers and she can see that he has tensed up completely – his entire body looks like it's spring-loaded and ready to snap. "I'm really sorry, Astoria."

"It's alright," she says, trying to smile at him. "I'll get back alright."

"Are you sure you're feeling better?" he asks, brow furrowing with concern. He hands her another chocolate bar. "Please eat the rest of this too. I feel terrible."

Before waiting for a response, he mounts his broomstick and shoots up into the night sky. Astoria watches him fly off, and then, slowly, makes her way back to the castle.

_What in the world just happened?_ she thinks to herself as she sneaks through the hallways of the castle, holding her breath until she finally gets back down to the dungeons. As she tiptoes into the Common Room and goes through the doorway into the girls' dormitory, she feels numb with confusion.

She collapses onto her bed, still wide awake despite the time.

_Where did Draco go? Why was he being so secretive? _

None of the alternatives that float through her mind are particularly comforting.

**Whew! Another chapter done. Thanks for reading, and please please review ****. It's always so encouraging when I find a new review – it's motivation that I'm not a crap writer and that I should keep going!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Aw my darlings, thank you so much for all your kind words! I'm exhausted today (so much work this week), but I thought of you all, gritted my teeth, and got to writing. **

**Hope you like this chapter! **

Astoria drums her fingers on the dining room table, trying not to look bored. Mother and Daphne are out shopping for Christmas presents, so it's just her and father at dinner, and he seems more engrossed in his latest business deal – in fact, he's speaking to one of his associates through the fireplace _as_ they dine – than in keeping his younger daughter entertained.

As the house elf, Sweepy, pours her another goblet of pumpkin juice, Astoria finds her mind wandering, as it has often in the past few days, to the mysterious Draco Malfoy. Since the incident that occurred the day of her disastrous break-up with Corwin, she hasn't spoken to _either_ boy. Corwin has passed her in hallways with his chin raised and an almost wounded expression, and Draco has simply been, well, nowhere to be found.

"Whatever happened to your tutor?" Clarisse had asked one night just before the holidays, as they made their way to the library together, making sure to skirt around the table where Corwin and all of his Ravenclaw friends sat.

"I dunno. Reckon he's been busy." Astoria had shrugged and tried to ignore the glares coming from the Ravenclaw table. Corwin already had a new girl, a curly-haired Ravenclaw, clinging to his arm as he perused a book. Her cheeks burned.

"Ignore them," Clarisse had muttered, shooting daggers with her eyes back at the table. "He's a right prat that one. And such a slut for going out with another girl so soon!"

As much as Astoria had appreciated Clarisse's support, she couldn't bear to tell her what was really bothering her – the strange absence of Draco Malfoy, and the stranger fact that she was missing him.

Thankfully, her family has accepted her brooding over the holidays, after Daphne whispered to them loudly to dinner one night that Astoria was having "first heartbreak problems." She doesn't mind the extra fussing – her mother allows her to eat more sweets with no word as to how it will destroy her figure – and her father even gave her some extra spending money. And it gives her an excuse to sit around and mull.

On her third day home, she is up late thinking about those last moments on the Quidditch pitch with Draco before he ran away, and how lovely they are. She is also thinking of the darkness in his features as he stood in front of that hallway, staring intently at the wall. Two sides to him, she muses. And she can't decide which one is truer – the nice, sweet boy she sees peeking through, or the dangerous one that everyone else sees.

She's lying on her bed, wearing flannel pajamas and wrapped up in a down-feather comforter cocoon when the thought occurs to her –

She could _write_ him.

It's insane, of course, and they don't even have any sort of a working relationship, but as soon as the thought enters her mind, she can't seem to convince it to leave.

First, she tries to read one of her sister's romance novels, a story of a young witch who falls for a destitute Muggle (no wonder Daphne hides this trash, her parents would _die_ if they discovered them). Then she curls up in her cocoon and tries to fall asleep. But to no avail – her mind is still on the same idiotic thought – that she should write to Draco.

_Well there's no harm in just writing a letter, even if you never send it, _she reasons with herself. _In fact, it's even known to be therapeutic to write letters to people that you will never send. Maybe it will help me get to sleep. _

She drags herself into a sitting position and knocks over half the things on her bedside table in her attempt to find a quill and some parchment.

"Lumos," she says softly, casting a glow over her bed so that she will be able to write. She furrows her brow and nibbles at the end of the quill thoughtfully. Then, haltingly, she begins to write.

_Dear Draco, _

_Hello there, it's me, your young protégé! Just kidding, it's just Astoria Greengrass, your miserably failing Potions tutee who most likely didn't fare that well on her final exams (since her tutor mysteriously disappeared prior to aforementioned exams)._

_I just wanted to drop you a line to see how you are doing, and how your holidays are coming along. I hope you're having a nice time at home – it's quite dull here actually. Father's always in meetings (during the holidays!), and Daphne and Mother go dress-shopping all day long. I like having a couple pretty things to wear, but when Daphne goes shopping, she'll linger in a shop for _hours. _It's miserable. I always bring schoolwork when I go with her, because I actually get quite a bit of material in my head while I wait for her. Last time I went, I read two hundred pages on Vampiric Law while she was in just one shop. Incredible, isn't it? _

_I owe you a gift for all of the Potions help you've been giving me. Hope you're doing well. _

_Happy Christmas, Draco._

_-Astoria _

She bites her lip as she rereads it. She had hoped to come across as breezy and entertaining, but she's afraid that she sounds just like a silly little girl, writing a letter to some older, more sophisticated boy. She shrugs to herself. Well, that's what she is, isn't she? Tying up the parchment with a piece of green ribbon that she usually uses to tie at the end of her braid, she clucks to call over the family owl, Quest. She had been allowed to name the creature, and she did so when she was just six years old and obsessed with a board game that involved a magical map and medieval character pieces called Quest.

"Hullo, old friend," she says softly, tying the letter to his leg. He nips affectionately at the tip of her finger, and she giggles. "To the Malfoy Manor, please."

The owl gives her a questioning look, before hooting and flying out the window. Astoria watches him go off into the distance, and then settles down, pulling her comforter around her shoulders as she falls asleep and dreams of falling from a distance and waking up to worried gray eyes…

When she wakes up, the sun is already pouring through her window. Downstairs, she can hear the plinking of piano keys – Mother must be up, then. She rubs her eyes and the plinking continues, ending in a series of terrible unharmonious chords. And Daphne is up as well, taking the dreaded piano lessons from Mother.

Astoria pushes herself into a sitting position. Only then does she notice the rolled up piece of parchment lying on her pillow, sealed with a black dollop of wax.

Her breath catches in her throat as she opens it, a bit dazed and disbelieving that Draco actually responded to her so quickly.

_Dear Astoria,_

_Thank you for writing. I've been meaning to say something to you, but I felt like such a prat for leaving you that night (after you had just suffered a terrible fall, no less) that I was too ashamed to approach you before the holidays. I hope that you will find it in yourself to forgive me. _

_Please don't bother yourself with buying me a gift. It was no trouble at all – and to be honest, you aren't terrible at Potions at all. I'm sure you did well on your final exams without my aid, and that Professor Snape may have even ventured a rare smile when he graded your exam. I've heard rumors that he has been known to smile, you know. _

_I want you to know that if I sometimes get… strange, not to take it personally. There is a great deal going on right now that I can't explain to you. _

_Have you finished all of your Christmas shopping? I still need to buy something for my Mum, and I'd love to meet you in Diagon Alley if you have the time. Today or tomorrow, perhaps? Let me know. _

_Best,_

_Draco Malfoy_

She feels dizzy for a moment, and then a small laugh bubbles from her lips. Draco Malfoy wants to go shopping with her? The idea is so ludicrous she doesn't know what to make of it, but clutching the piece of parchment, she runs downstairs barefoot – ignoring Sweepy who carries a pair of slippers running behind her, squeaking, "Miss 'Tori, you must put on your shoes! The floor is cold, Miss 'Tori!"

As she enters the drawing room, out of breath, both her mother and Daphne look up from the piano in surprise.

"Whatever is going on, Astoria?" her mother says, arching a fine eyebrow. Both she and Daphne are already dressed for the day in simple dresses in dark colors, and they look expensive and beautiful.

"I was wondering," Astoria asks, out of breath. "If I could go to Diagon Alley by myself later today."

"Well I can't let you go all alone," her mother says, frowning. Even when she frowns, her eyes sparkle and her hair – which is pulled back into a low bun – is impeccable. Astoria can see why sometimes, when they are sitting at dinner together, her father says nothing and simply stares at her from across the table. "That'd be dangerous. At least take Daphne."

Daphne rolls her eyes and Astoria can see that she is about to protest – she hates _babysitting_ Astoria, as she puts it – so she moves in to interject. "Well, actually, I won't be alone. I'll be going with a school friend."

Daphne narrows her eyes and looks at her suspiciously. "But I thought you said Clarisse was going to France for the holidays. Oh Merlin, please don't tell me you've reconciled with that little twit Conrad…"

"It's not _Corwin_," Astoria says, her cheeks firing up in embarrassment. Before she can help it, the words slip out of her mouth, "I received an owl from Draco Malfoy. He asked if I'd like to meet him at Diagon Alley today to finish our Christmas shopping together."

Two pairs of perfectly formed eyebrows shoot up simultaneously.

Astoria is pleased for a moment, to see that she has completely dumfounded both her mother and her sister, who are normally so unflappable and poised. They both look at her, and Daphne's mouth even drops open in a rather unflattering way. Astoria stares back calmly, even though she can feel her stomach flipping.

"Well then," her mother finally says, her tone surprised. "I'm sure Draco Malfoy will be a fine chaperone for you. But really, Astoria," and she still sounds baffled, "I had _no _idea that you were friends with the Malfoy boy."

Astoria shrugs and Daphne shakes her head at her disbelievingly.

Before they can say more, she mutters, "Thank you," and runs upstairs to pen a quick note to Draco that she sends of with Quest:

_Hi Draco,_

_I do actually need to do some shopping. I can meet you at Diagon Alley at around 3 in the afternoon today – I need to be home by 6:30 for dinner, but that should leave us plenty of time to find gifts._

_-Astoria _

"Back to the Malfoy Manor, Quest," she murmurs. The owl hoots and flies off.

She is going through her closets, looking for something to wear when she hears a throat clearing behind her. When she turns around, Daphne is standing there, still looking entirely shell-shocked.

"I was wondering," she starts off. "If you needed any help with your outfit, or your hair, or your make-up."

She can tell that her sister is just dying to ask about what her relationship to Draco is, and that she's hedging for an answer by asking all these questions that pertain to Astoria's appearance to see if she is, in fact, going on a _date_ with Draco Malfoy. Astoria ignores this and shrugs her shoulders.

"I was just looking for whatever's warmest," she fibs, even though her stomach is in knots at the thought of what she should wear or look like.

"Oh, okay." Daphne lingers for a moment longer, then crosses the room and fiddles with Astoria's hair affectionately, in that way she always does. "You know, you can tell me anything, right?"

Astoria looks back at her sister, into her large imploring eyes and nods.

"Good," Daphne says, smiling a bit hesitantly. "You should tell me about how boys treat you, and if they treat you poorly or… if they hurt you. Because I am your sister, and I care about you."

"Thanks," Astoria says, a bit awkwardly, though she's pleased by Daphne's rare shows of sisterly affection and protectiveness. "I'll come to you if I need anything, I promise."

"Good," Daphne says, looking at her expectantly.

Astoria looks back at her in silence for a moment, and then finally says, "Can you French braid my hair for me? I can never get it right myself…"

A few hours later, she finds herself standing in front of the family fireplace, clad in a gray wool skirt and emerald green cardigan, with her hair tied back into a thick French braid pulled over her shoulder. Daphne had finally convinced her to put on a bit of blush and just a touch of pink lipstick. "You won't look unnatural!" she had exclaimed. "You'll just look pretty and sun-kissed."

"Have fun, dear," her mother says from where she sits primly on a chair, taking tea with her father. Astoria waves nervously and throws a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace, taking a deep breath.

"Diagon Alley, please," she calls out, and steps into the fireplace.

When she steps out again, she almost falls over after bumping into a very, very solid body.

"Ouch," she mutters, trying to gain her footing as she looks around. A pair of slate gray eyes peer back at her and before she can control herself, she blushes wildly. He looks the same as always – pale and thin, with those same eyes and the fine blond hair. But when he sees her, his eyes change from their usual hardened look to a softer gray.

"Astoria," he says, just like he did when she showed up on the balcony. "You made it."

"Yes," she says, smiling at him hesitantly. She holds up her pouch of spending money and shakes it, feeling stupid as she says, "And all ready to buy gifts!"

He ignores her nervous comments though and steps forward, wrapping his arms around her awkwardly. She gasps for a moment before leaning into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He's not a very good hugger (and to be honest, she isn't either), but as she breaths in his clean, almost grass-like scent, she feels her face warm up and her stomach do some strange flips.

"It's good to see you," he says, though his voice muffled and his breath hot against her hair.

"It's good to see you too," she says.

When they pull away, they look at each other a bit uncertainly, and finally both smile.

"Well," he says, holding out an arm for her to take. "Let's go shopping, shall we/?"

And Astoria thinks, _This is going to be a very interesting afternoon indeed_.

**Aaah, that was a longer chapter than usual ****. Hope you guys enjoyed! Please click the review button and send me a note if you feel so inclined! **


	8. Chapter 8

There is nothing quite as bizarre as going shopping with a boy, Astoria has decided. She's always despised shopping – at least they way that her mother and Daphne view shopping, as an all day expedition to try on clothes and sample cosmetics and beauty charms.

Draco, however, seems perfectly content with shopping from a list in the same way one would check off items on a to-do list.

"First off is my mother. Do you have to find a gift for your mother as well, Astoria?" he asks rather properly, even though they are strolling arm in arm through Diagon Alley. Astoria can't help but think that he seems even more stiff and awkward about this… date, if you could call it that, then she is. And to think, that he is the one who's had more relationship experience than she has!

She nods, her hand still looped through his elbow and resting on his arm. Is this how one is supposed to be "escorted" by a boy? She certainly hopes so. "Yes, I usually go to Cassiopeiae's Closet."

When he gives her a quizzical look, she explains, "Well, it's a sort of shop filled with trinkets, jewelry, and other pretty little gift items. My mother and Daphne always find something they like there."

Draco raises an eyebrow. "I usually just buy my mother a book or something," he smiles at her sideways, and Astoria feels her stomach give a little lurch at how boyish he seems when he does that. "I imagine she might be pleasantly surprised this year, thanks to your help."

She feels a little strange about this, the prospect that he might mention her to his mother in a positive light, as in, "That nice Astoria Greengrass girl helped me pick out your gift, Mum."

_You're reading too much into this, Astoria_, she chides herself, trying not to blush as they walk into the shop. She loosens her grip on his arm and wanders a little off from him to look at the trinkets and wares spread out on the silver and sea foam green tablecloths. The walls of the entire shop are painted black and charmed to look like stars are twinkling from them. It's always been one of the only shops where she hasn't minded lingering for a while.

She picks out a pretty pendant in the shape of a starfish for her mother, and lingers over the beauty supplies for a while before settling on a magically shrinking cosmetics bag (in leopard print) and a pair of magically self-affixing glitter eyelashes for Daphne, who will certainly consider them a fun touch for New Year's.

She hesitates for a few moments over a set of smooth, white lacquered combs for her hair – now that it's grown so long, it'd be nice to have a set of magical combs to put it in a bun or braid – but decides not to buy it since she still needs to save her money for her father. Instead, she settles on picking out a set of friendship quills that write in invisible text. Only when the matching quill sweeps the feathered end over the page does it reveal what's written. That will be the perfect gift for Clarisse.

And, she thinks, a bit bemusedly, she'll have to find a gift for Draco as well. She steals a glance at him and is surprised to see that he's already at the counter, thanking the bespectacled witch and putting his wrapped purchases under his arm.

"Oh sorry," she says, approaching the counter with her gifts. "I didn't realize you were already finished. You should have said something."

"It's no bother," he says, smiling at her. "You had more people to shop for anyway."

After she pays, they exit the shop and mull around outside for a bit. They sit on a bench side by side, and she crosses her arms over her chest because of the winter chill. She's acutely aware of his arm brushing up against hers through all those layers of cloaks and wool.

"So what did you end up buying your mother?" she asks, nodding over at his bundles. "I want to see."

He dutifully unwraps one of the objects in his lap, carefully pulling apart the tissue paper to reveal a beautiful silk scarf in the deepest blue. "I thought this would look striking on my mother," he says, looking at her a bit questioningly. "Don't you? Since she has such fair features."

Astoria nods, touched by how Draco is seeking her approval. "It's great," she says. "Really, I'm sure she'll love it." She nods at the other wrapped gift by his side and tries to keep her voice casual as she asks, "Who's that one for? Did you pick up something for Pansy?"

She's heard the rumors, of course, though she doesn't quite believe that they're true. The other girls say that Draco is, though not exactly _dating_ anyone, betrothed to Pansy Parkinson. "No wonder he looks so sick all the time," Clarisse had said as the other girls gossiped and Astoria remained stonily silent in the dormitory. "Vomit. Can you imagine being stuck with _that_ priss for all of eternity?"

Beside her, Draco reddens, looking flushed in a sickly way. Astoria immediately regrets having asked the question, but before she can apologize, he picks up the bundle and shoes it into her lap. "Here," he says, his voice oddly strangled. "Actually, it's for you. I was going to wait, but…" he shrugs his shoulders. "I suppose there's no time like the present, eh?"

She unwraps it slowly, aware that she's taking her time to savor the moment. She pulls back the tissue paper to reveal, to her surprise, the set of combs she had been looking at earlier.

"But, what?" she sputters, rather inelegantly. How did he know? For one foolish moment, she looks at him sharply, wondering if he can read minds. But no, that's stupid of her to think, of course.

Draco looks embarrassed. "I can return it if you don't like it," he mutters. "I just saw you looking at it, so I thought maybe you wanted it…"

"I _love_ it," Astoria cries out, mortified that she's offended him. She throws her arms around his shoulders before catching herself and pulling away, blushing wildly. Holding the combs in her hands, she smiles up at him shyly and he returns the smile. "Thank you," she says. "That was so nice and thoughtful of you. I'll have to come up with something good for your gift."

"You don't have to get me anything," Draco says, but he looks pleased with himself. He slings an arm around Astoria's shoulders and she tentatively leans into him, almost overwhelmed by the fluttery feelings that overtake her stomach. So this is what it's supposed to feel like, she thinks. She certainly never felt this way with Corwin, that's for certain.

"This is a pretty nice shopping trip," she says, feeling a bit idiotic as she grins to herself. He looks down at her with a smile toying at his lips and nods in assent.

"So, tell me more about yourself," he says in that impeccably formal way of his, and she giggles at how clichéd of an opening line it is. He looks put out and insists, "No really, I want to know more about you. What's your favorite color, for instance?"

"Midnight blue," she says immediately. "Sort of that velvety color the sky gets on a summer night. Yours?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Would it be terribly unoriginal if I said that I liked green?"

"Yes."

"Well I'm terribly unoriginal then."

She smiles and rests her cheek on his shoulder, sighing happily.

"You know, I thought you were going to be much scarier when I first met you."

He stiffens a little beside her, but keeps his voice steady as he says, "Oh? How so?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "I suppose it's just this persona that people think you have. All the younger students, at least, see you as this figure of authority and it's quite off-putting to see you…" she trails off, not knowing what to say.

"Normal?" he prompts, smirking a bit.

"Yes, normal," she says. "It's refreshing, because you're not nearly as stony and cold as everyone thinks you are. You're quite nice, actually."

He looks down at her, and she tilts her head up to look back at him, a bit wonderingly. His eyes have gone serious, and when he speaks again, his voice is low. "I think you're quite nice," he says, before lowering his lips to meet hers.

Astoria flutters her eyes closed and melts into the kiss. Her first thought is that she certainly didn't see that coming. Her second thought is that this is _nothing_ like snogging Corwin. Draco and Corwin, she decides, are most definitely two different breeds of boys.

Draco pulls away, looking a bit flushed as he grins down at her. Astoria can't imagine how furiously she must be flushing, but she smiles back at him shyly.

"I'm quite fond of you, Astoria," he says softly, and she can't believe how full and warm her chest feels when he says this. She could just burst –she feels so happy.

"Well," she responds, somehow managing to be articulate. "I'm fond of you as well, Draco."

They sit there and smile at each other for a moment before Draco tightens his arm around Astoria's shoulders and pulls her closer. As they sit there, enjoying each other's company, Astoria sees an intimidating-looking man in impeccable black robes watching them. When she catches his eye, the man raises an eyebrow and walks towards them.

"Draco," he says, his voice smooth and cold. Beside her, Astoria can feel Draco tense up. His grip around her shoulder tightens.

"Mr. Yaxley," he responds, his voice strained. "What a pleasure."

Astoria stares up at the man, who is sneering down at her with a curious expression, as though he's trying to place her.

"And who are you?"

She opens her mouth to respond but Draco tightens his grip on her arm and gives her a warning look. She is aware, suddenly, that this Yaxley man might be dangerous. Returning Draco's look with a frightened one, she shuts her mouth.

The man smirks and peers at her face while she tries to look away. "Looks like a Greengrass, to me," he says, and beside her, Draco goes pale. "Tell your father that Yaxley told him that it's not too late to join, little girl."

Suddenly, Astoria is yanked upward as Draco stands up hastily, his hand still on her arm. She looks over at him to see that he is pale and looks as though he's just seen a ghost. "We have to go," he says curtly. "Good day, Mr. Yaxley."

Without waiting for an answer, he starts walking down the street, pulling Astoria behind him.

As they walk away, Yaxley calls after them, "Do try to hurry up with your task, Draco. We're becoming rather impatient."

"What was that all about?" Astoria asks as soon as they round the corner. She is out of breath and her arm hurts from where Draco has been holding it. She yanks her arm away and looks at him questioningly. "Who was that? What's going on?"

He looks back at her, his eyes glittering strangely. "You have to go," he says abruptly, pushing her toward the Floo network. "I shouldn't have… you'll be put in danger."

He's muttering under his breath to himself and Astoria feels her heart thrumming against her ribcage. She has no idea what's going on, but she has that sickening feeling of dread as she recalls Clarisse's warnings about how Draco's family supports the Dark Lord. Who was that man? Was he a Death Eater? She wants to ask Draco, but he looks so distraught that she doesn't know what to say.

"You have to go, Astoria," he says, putting both hands on her shoulders firmly. He looks into her eyes, and she sees that he is frightened. "And… try not to associate with me anymore. It's not safe for you."

She feels tears prick at her eyes and shakes her head. "What's going on?" she says, thoroughly confused. "Why can't I associate with you?"

He just shakes his head.


	9. Chapter 9

**I am sorry for the prolonged delay – I happened to take a little trip, and then was so bogged down with work afterwards that I couldn't get back into writing this until now. Please accept my apologies and read (and review)! I hope you enjoy **

For the rest of Christmas break, Astoria is absolutely miserable. She tries not to show it, but Daphne picks up on it as soon as she comes home from her disastrous (and rather confusing) shopping trip with Draco. The older sister wisely doesn't tease her about going out with a boy; instead, she gives Astoria a worried look and then says, quite nicely, "You know, I think you're going to just _love_ the Christmas gift I bought you."

Astoria smiles back weakly.

She writes to Draco two times over the next week.

_Dear Draco –_

_Thank you for the lovely gift. I'm sorry you had to leave in such a rush, but please let me know that you are doing alright. Send my regards to your mother – I do hope she liked the scarf you picked out for her. _

_Astoria_

When she receives no response, she pens the other letter in the middle of the night:

_Draco –_

_Did I do something terribly wrong? What's going on? If you don't want to talk to me any longer, then you don't have to, you know. _

_Astoria_

She fells sick in a way she never has before. What has she done wrong? She's mortified by the thought that perhaps Draco was so disgusted by their kiss that he wants nothing to do with her. She also feels a bit strange when she remembers what she's heard in the hallways at school – that those foolish Gryffindors believe that Draco is _up to no good_, that he's been behind some terrible things that have happened to other students.

Instead of dwelling on this, she writes Clarisse a letter confessing everything that happened during the shopping trip. On Christmas day, she receives a response, along with a predictably Clarisse gift – a box of chocolate frogs and a scarf that changes color with the wearer's mood. She puts it on and it immediately turns to a dreary purple.

_To my cohort in all things,_

The letter begins. Astoria cracks a smile and realizes how much she misses her best friend, and how she wishes that she could be here to gossip with her.

_What an intriguing letter you've written me! I suspected that there was some romance broiling between you and Mr. Pale and Mysterious, but I never dared to hope that it had gone this far. _

_To address the points of your letter: _

_You are NOT a crap kisser. Did you see how much Corwin tried to stick his tongue down your throat? Blech and blech. Clearly you were doing __something__that he liked. _

_Draco does like you. Why else would he go shopping with you? Blokes hate shopping! Just ask my father, or rather, my three brothers. _

_By the way, my brother Paul saw your photo and says you're a cute girl. See? Nothing to worry about. _

_You just glossed over the appearance of the grim Mr. Yaxley like it was nothing. Something changed when he appeared, did it not? It sounds like he's someone to worry about… _

_Death Eaters are scary, Astoria. Not to get too redundant, but really. I'm just saying. _

_If I were you, I'd look up this Mr. Yaxley and see what he's done. It sounds almost like he was threatening you when he showed up._

_Thanks for the amazing journal, by the way! I love it and it's driving my little brothers crazy because they can't read my "journal." I hope you like the scarf and it better be a nice cheery color when I see you again. I don't want you to be moping around all day. _

_Happy Christmas!_

_XOXO,_

_Clarisse _

Just as she is finishing the letter, Daphne bursts into her room exclaiming, "It's Christmas, Tori! Come on; we're waiting for you to open gifts!"

Daphne, usually so composed and wry, always acts like a little girl at Christmas, something the whole family finds amusing. She rushes from bedroom to bedroom, trying to gather everyone so that they can open the gifts. Astoria suspects that this year, she is more excited than most because she has asked for a designer robe from a new and highly anticipated collection, but she smiles and pulls on a sweater. She is about to follow Daphne downstairs, but hesitates for a moment before reaching for the combs that Draco gave her and pinning them into her hair.

"Oh, that's very pretty," Daphne says distractedly, patting her on the head. "It will look good in the family photos."

"Thanks."

Downstairs, the presents are practically spilling from underneath the tree. Mother and Father both sit on the sofa, looking as though they are half asleep. "Well girls," their mother murmurs. "Go ahead – start opening your gifts."

The first gift that Astoria opens is from her parents. She tears it open to find a book on magical plants and a corresponding growing kit with rare seeds and delicate glass flowerpots to grow them in. She rushes to her parents and kisses them on the cheek, glowingly excited for a moment.

Beside her, Daphne squeals, confirming that she did indeed receive a designer robe for Christmas. Astoria looks over to see a shimmery silver confection that flares from the waist.

Her mother and Daphne both love their gifts, and their father receives a beautiful watch that they all picked out.

Finally, just one small package lies underneath the tree.

"It's for you, Tori," Daphne says, handing it to her with a baffled crinkle in her nose. "From…"

By the way that Daphne trails off, Astoria is almost certain she knows who the package is from. Face burning, she grabs for it and turns it over. There it is in impeccable cursive:

_To Astoria Greengrass_

_From Draco Malfoy _

Aware that Daphne is watching her carefully, Astoria tears open the package slowly to reveal a small, innocuous journal with the heading, "Things I Want to Say" embossed on the cover. She flips open to the first page, and there, in tiny letters is written, "I'm sorry. I'll explain everything."

Astoria trains her face to remain neutral and looks back up at her family, who are all watching her with concern.

"It's just a journal –since my old one is worn out," she explained. "The pages are waterproof, so I don't accidentally drop it in the bath again."

Her parents and sister give her relieved smiles, but when she is alone later that night, Astoria puzzles over the journal, turning it over and over in her hand. _There must be more_, she thinks. Suddenly, she remembers the notebook that she gave to Clarisse for Christmas. What if this too, was something that only she could read? What if there's a secret message written to her?

Feeling a bit foolish, she takes out her wand and taps it to the parchment. "Show yourself," she whispers. Nothing happens for a moment, and then she gasps. The words appear on the page in spidery script.

_Prove yourself. Who are you? _

"Astoria Greengrass," she whispers. Pausing for a moment, she unclips one of the combs from her hair and presses it to the page.

Immediately, the words appear on the page.

_Astoria –_

_I need to tell you that you cannot associate with me any longer. I am not a good person – and it's dangerous for you to be around me, as I foolishly forgot. Thankfully, the appearance of Yaxley at Diagon Alley reminded me of how much I'm putting you in jeopardy. Yaxley is a dangerous man, Astoria. I need you to know that. He's done horrible things, and if he ever got his hands on you… I don't know what I'd do. I don't know what I'd do if _any _of them got a hold of you. I'd feel so guilty and terrible. _

_I just want you to know that I care about you. If we need to communicate, please do so using this journal. Once we get back to school, you can leave it in the back section of the library, where the books on cauldron research are. No one ever goes back there. Please do so sparingly though – I don't want anything to happen to you._

_I have to let you know – this isn't all my doing. If you hear terrible things about me, try not to believe them at face value. You remember what happened to that Gryffindor with the cursed necklace earlier this year? I… I had something to do with that. You'll probably despise me now, but I needed to say it. That's how dangerous this all is._

_I don't want you to think the worst of me. The truth is, Astoria – if we had met under different circumstances in a different time, I would have tried so hard to be someone you could have been proud of._

_Take care of yourself._

_Yours,_

_Draco _

Astoria feels her head spinning and for a moment, she feels as though she can't breathe. She's still as confused as ever, and now that sense of foreboding is creeping into her system.

_So Clarisse was right_, she thinks, feeling a chill go up her spine. Draco was responsible for some terrible things. She remembered that girl – how she had almost died, they said. Someone had handed her a cursed object and she had almost _died_. What does Draco mean when he says that he had "something to do with that"? Was he the one who handed it to her? Did he want to hurt her just because she was a Gryffindor?

And what's all this about how he doesn't want her to get hurt?

…Does that mean she's in some kind of danger?

Astoria slowly crawls into bed and wraps the blankets around her, but she can't stop shivering. That's where Sweepy finds her hours later, staring blankly at a wall.

"Oh miss!" Sweepy exclaims, looking quite distressed. "Miss should have told Sweepy to start a fire. Poor miss looks like she has seen a ghost!"

Astoria smiles weakly at the house elf and hands her a small wrapped package that she had in her drawer - a set of pencils (for she's noticed that Sweepy always decorates their cakes and baked goods in beautiful flourishes). "Here Sweepy. Happy Christmas."

The elf bursts into tears of gratitude, and Astoria does her best to smile at her, but inside, she feels like she's trying to stay afloat in an ocean.

**Thoughts? Comments? I love you all for your sweet reviews ****. Please continue sending them my way! **


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